


Not Quite a Fairy Tale

by Mimsys



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abuse Mentions, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Canon Abuse, Cinderella AU, Cinderella Elements, Drinking, Gen, M/M, Male Cinderella, Past Abuse, Slow Build, Steve centric, bc they're wonderful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not quite a fairy tale. It's close, granted. There's a prince, a wonderful ball, and a farmboy about to be given the chance to dance with royalty. But it's not a fairy tale; it's real life. And in real life there aren't fairy godmothers, and pumpkins don't become carriages.<br/>Cinderella AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Just Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by the Cinderella remake and I'm looking for a BETA so please let me know if you're interested.

Sarah Rogers was a kind woman with gentle hands and an even gentler smile; it was so strange, then, that she married a man like Joseph. He was a common soldier who joined King Stark’s army more because he loved to fight than because he felt there was a valid threat to defend against; she had owned a small store in which she sold home remedies in the forms of herb poultices and little black bags of strange, musty smelling ingredients. When Joseph had stumbled into her store with blood coating his plan uniform and a gash across his stomach, it took her almost a week of undivided attention to be sure he would survive. He had left once he was able but his injuries had sent him back home as soon as he arrived back on base; the only problem was that he didn’t have a home to return to. So he’d returned to Sarah.

He asked to rent a room from her in her small, simple cottage and she’d agreed without hesitation, citing that at least she would be able to check on his wounds as they healed. She had a decent wealth from her work but often donated it, preferring to keep only what she needed to keep herself feed and her shop running. Joseph was a simple man and driven more by factors of greed and ambition; he set his mind to woo Sarah and it took less than a season for him to move from her cottage to her bed. They married early the next year.

The next July, Sarah gave birth to a baby boy whom she’d named Steve. He was frail in a way that worried her to no end, catching sickness after sickness despite her best attempts to keep him healthy. His slim frame showed sharp bones under his skin and hollow shadows in his cheeks and around his eyes; those didn’t fade as he grew up. Despite his poor health, he took to running around in the field when the air was nice and simply laying on his back, arms and legs spread, to enjoy the sun when he was too spent to do anything else.

He was laying like that when he met his first friend, James “call me Bucky” Barnes; Bucky was five, a whole six months younger than Steve, but acted as protective as an older brother. He’d snuck away from his own house, a new building across the road from Sarah’s cottage that had adapted to Howard Stark’s new view of the future; it had lights that were cool to the touch and never went out and water pitchers that were kept cool even in the middle of summer. “What’cha looking at?” He’d asked, self assured in a way that wasn’t cocky.

When Steve looked up, light reflected off of the child’s metal arm; he didn’t ask about it though, just smiled a crooked smile and glanced between Bucky and the sky above. “It’s painted red this early in the morning, see?” He asked, raising one hand to point up at the dawn. “Red and orange and pink and all the otha’ warm colors. At night, it’s purple and rich and deep. People say the grass is green and the sky is blue but it’s not just blue, see?”

Bucky nodded before tilting his head back so he could see the sky above. “I see.” He said softly, tone still firm and unwavering but no longer hinting at arrogance; he seemed to realize that he’d found a companion worthy of being on even footing with. “Why you looking at it?”

Steve gave him a tight, pinched sort of smile and Bucky thought he must have said something wrong, must have offended the kid. “I can’t see any of those colors. I’m colorblind. I just know that that flower over by your feet is yellow because momma said so and that part of the sky there-” he pointed again, gesturing towards the orangey halo around the sun, “-is the same sort of mess of color. It’s not yellow to me but I know it is. That’s why I hate when people say the sky is blue. They think it doesn’t matter, yeah? But you learn to appreciate things you can’t have.” Bucky nodded very solemnly and Steve decided he was alright.

Steve and Bucky were both sprawled out on the grass six years later when Steve found out that his world was crumbling apart. Despite how often she’d healed others, Sarah was sick in a way that the doctors didn’t think she could shake. After she coughed, there was blood on the handkerchief thrown into the fireplace. 

“You’ll be alright.” His mother promised Steve as he stood by her bedside, small, calloused hands clutching pale, shaking one. “I believe in you. It’s going to be hard, love; I know that. Just remember that your life isn’t going to be defined by how other people see you. You’re more than my little boy; you’re brave and strong and good and that’s more important than anything else.”

“The sky isn’t just blue.” Steve said softly and Sarah nodded, eyes fluttering closed.

“And the world won’t be either. I’m so sorry for leaving you so young, baby, but just remember that you were the thing I loved most in the world. You are my sunshine boy.” Her voice was thin and reedy and it wasn’t really a surprise when it broke off into raspy coughing and Steve was ushered out; the clang of the Stark castle, so far away to the boy on the verge of becoming a teen, echoing even now. It seemed a mockery to Steve that the kingdom of gears and innovations hadn’t had anything that could save his mother. She died that winter, cheeks as pale as the snow.

His father drank heavily after Sarah was gone, and Joseph’s harsh words and condescending remarks turned into heavy blows from the back of his hands, rings leaving indents on Steve’s sunburnt face. Steve withdrew from school to take care of the cottage his mother had valued so and keep his father out of trouble, which wasn’t easy. Bucky didn’t come around anymore; he spent most of his time training to join the king’s royal guard when he was 18. Steve started to join him in his exercise in hopes that his father would at least second guess hitting him again and Steve’s frail, scrawny frame filled out slowly with lean muscle.


	2. Have Faith in Your Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Steve dreamed of being at the castle with them.

Time passed (slowly, it seemed, so slowly) and the heartache of losing his mother got easier, although it never went away. Bucky spent enrolled in the king’s guard assessment program when he was sixteen and that pulled him away from Steve more but it also made him happy so Steve didn’t begrudge him that, especially since he spent so much of his free time with Steve. While working on the assessment program, he meant another guard-to-be named Peggy who he quickly became enamored with; she often came home with Bucky on their infrequent breaks from the royal service.

When they were able to get away, though, they brought small treats rolled up in wax paper and packed with their clothing to keep it safe; Bucky usually brought small snacks or candies that he thought might brighten Steve’s day and Peggy picked up small mechanical trinkets from the bazar: gears that spun for hours after just one nudge, metal wires that sparked when they touched, and a piece of glass that glowed faintly in the dark.

Steve prided them of course but what he really treasured were the _stories_ they brought back. They would all go out to the hill where he and Bucky first met and sit in a circle as Bucky or Peggy (usually Peggy) began their time together with a humorous story from the training grounds. 

“Sir Pew,” she began one time, puffing out her chest and looking down her nose at them in a way that was meant to make her subject seem haughty, “was striding around the sparring field as if he owned the place, sneering and mocking.” She rolled to her feet as nimbly as an acrobat and began to march around the area, showing his stiff-backed walk and trademark scowl. “So Instructor Lawton pulled him over asking for help with a demonstration and _whack_!” She slapped a hand to her side dramatically, “He laid him out right flat!” Peggy toppled over onto her back and Bucky whistled appreciatively, laughing and nodding as the girl rose back to her feet and brushed herself off.

They would talk long into the night until dusk painted the sky dark with hues Steve knew to be purple even if they didn’t seem that way to him. After a few hours, Bucky would swagger off to practice his forms with long sticks as his weapons and trees as his opponents and Steve would watch absently and snigger while listening to Peggy’s stories of life within the bustling, mechanical hub of the kingdom; she explained how to get around the castle, even drawing out maps in the dirt, and primly told him tales about the royals’ dirty business and daily life as she explained their manners - and lack of manners.

Steve reviewed those stories often while his friends were gone in part simply because he enjoyed the tales and missed Bucky and Peggy’s company but also, a small part of him admitted, because he’d like to be there himself. When he wasn’t imitating a noble’s swaggering walk and confident drawl, he was cleaning around the house to keep the rundown cottage from falling apart. Even on the outskirts of the kingdom, King Stark’s love of technology and innovation had started to change the lives of his people; hand drawn wells were replaced by contraptions of pipes and pumps under the water; time was kept by gears and chimes instead of stone and shadow. The whole kingdom was embracing the advances in technology but none of them had been enough to save his mother and she’d been who she was without any of it in her life or home; Steve shunned it whenever possible, preferring to go about his life as his mother had for so many years.

When not going through the drills Bucky and Peggy had taught him or working out, Steve spent his free time in the stables with their old, stubborn stallion Dugan. He had a ginger coat and slightly darker mane and tail that were braided intricately to keep them from tangling; the horse at piercing blue eyes, a patch of bristles over his brow, and a braying laugh that never failed to make Steve laugh as well. He had never let anyone but Steve or his mother ride him and they’d had him since Steve was a toddler. Steve spoke to him as if he were a human, as if he could understand, and sometimes even slept in his stall so he could do so as he drifted off, leaning against the stall door and resting on a bed of hay as he rambled about his day or Bucky’s latest letter.

Two slow, almost painfully dull years passed like that, Steve bouncing between his chores, his horse, and the occasional visits of his friends that only grew more infrequent as their training progressed. With each passing season, his father also grew more harsh and cruel and would give him more chores and less time to do them in; he would ban Steve from leaving the house, even to see Bucky, and he was often loud and aggressive around the cottage. When Steve was caught sneaking out of the house to see Bucky or Peggy, he would be struck and thrown back into his room in the attic, where he was locked away without supper; if he was lucky, his father remembered to let him out the next morning.

Steve’s time with his friends was growing short; they would be done with their training in just a few short months and would be shipping off to actual deployment either around the kingdom or at its borders; thankfully, they weren’t currently at war and the risk of them not coming back was low for the time being. Even still, he found himself clinging to Bucky’s hand when they shook goodbye and there was silent pleading in his gaze each time they parted. _Please come back to me._ They begged. _Please stay safe_.

So caught up in his worry over Bucky and Peggy, Steve barely remembered that his own birthday was rapidly approaching. Peggy’s sly smiles over the past few weeks finally made since when early on the morning of July 4th, a pristine white box was slid over to Steve across his breakfast table. It was as wide across as his chest and as long as from his elbow to fingertip and Steve must have spent too long admiring it because reached over to flip the lid open. Nestled amongst the white paper inside of it was a pair of black leather boots. “No.” Steve gasped, eyes blown wide in surprise at the quality. “You shouldn’t have…”

Peggy snorted out a laugh as Bucky moved to stand before Steve, reaching out to hold him by his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter what we should or shouldn’t have done, Steve. This is what’s done. You deserved something nice. Now.” Bucky fell to his knees, holding a hand out for one of the boots; Steve handed it over reverently and the brunet spent a good five minutes carefully sliding Steve’s foot into it and tugging the stiff leather up his legs. “It’ll yield some as you wear it.” He promised, smoothing it flat where it stopped at the underside of Steve’s bony knees. “Most boots of this quality close up with these little gears laced in along the side but I figured you wouldn’t wear them if I got you that kind so you’ll have to deal with it until then.”

“Thank you.” Steve let out in a sigh as Bucky began working on the other shoe. “They’re absolutely beautiful.” They were black, even to his eyes, in a deep tone that spoke of midnight secrets; a stripe along the top of both boots was in a midnight blue that had Steve smiling fondly at the day he and Bucky first met. “I don’t know what I’ll do with them, Buck; I can’t exactly wear these to muck out Dugan’s stable. You’re trying to dress me like- like a prince!”

Bucky’s smile was kind even as he shook his head. “A prince would never look as fine as you do right now, Stevie; your smile is so much brighter than any crown, any gem, any newfangled invention. Besides, there’s been some chatter around the castle of a party for the commoners and if it’s soon, I’d like to take you for your birthday.”

“Fancy boots won’t help me blend in when the rest of me is still a mess.” Steve protested, raising his hands.

Instead of looking defeated, Bucky and Peggy shared looks. “We’ve been working on that, actually. Until the details settle, though, why don’t we go spar?” Peggy asked, extending a hand to Steve. “I’ve got some new moves to show you.”


	3. Whatever You Wish For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball is announced and while Steve would rather stay at home with Dugan and his friends, Bucky and Peggy are attending and he supposes he ought to as well. Unfortunately, his father was less than pleased at the suggestion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out! Work's been kicking my butt.

In the middle of July, a ball was announced; the elaborate party was hosted every generation for the prince of princess reaching adulthood and it was intended to find Prince Tony a bride - or groom, as the teen had made it clear that he was interested in both sexes. It was set for the end of July, only a week and a half away and two months after the prince’s eighteenth birthday. For the first time in as far back as the land could remember, all members of society were invited to attend and not just the nobles. Eligible bachelors and bachelorettes around the kingdom began to prepare their outfits and see to new wardrobes and accessories to help snare a royal catch; even those who weren’t interested in the party itself were excited for a day off of work and some free food and good music. 

Steve couldn’t care less, though, because Peggy and Bucky were both being deployed three days after the ball as the eighth month reared its head and brought sweltering heat. It took some convincing that was more begging than anything else to make him even consider the idea and his nose wrinkled up at the thought of him - him, of all people! - surrounded by such finery and technology. “It’ll be one of the last chances we have to spend time together before, well, you know-” Bucky began, quirking one eyebrow, and Steve felt himself sag in defeat as he nodded once; he loved Bucky and Peggy dearly but he didn’t want to make small talk with strangers as they danced the night away. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t even have anything to wear.” Steve reminded sharply and Bucky paused, cocking his head to one side and eyeing Steve assessingly. “What?” The blond asked defensively, looking down at his ratty, worn clothing and bare feet with more shame than he’d expected. “I don’t.”

“We can fix that.” Bucky flashed Steve one of his signature shit eating grins and rose to his feet. “Just you wait and see. We’ll take care of you.”

“You always do.” Steve sighed but nodded, shrugging stiffly with one shoulder. “But I doubt anything you’ve got is going to fit me.”

“Maybe not.” Bucky allowed, a faint smirk on his features. “You’re still pretty scrawny even though you’ve been working out, but I bet Peggy has something she can lend you.”

“ _Peggy_?” Steve all but shrieked, an embarrassed flush spreading over his cheeks. “I’m not ashamed of wearing a girl’s clothes or anything - I’ve worn Becca’s shirts before, after all - but I don’t want to wear a dame’s hand me downs to an event hosted at the royal castle.”

Bucky just shrugged, turning away. “We’ll figure out a way. I’m going to go talk to Peggy about it; you just stay out of trouble until then so your father will let you go.”

Steve forced a smile, sticking his tongue out at his friend. “Me? Get into trouble?” He pretended not to see Bucky tense slightly at the suggestion, knowing why he was doing so. Steve had been hurt on more than one occasion, saved only by Bucky or Peggy’s intervention; the bullying had faded as he became stronger but his father had became only more bitter of the years and his words hurt Steve as much as any thug’s attacks on the way home from the park. Bucky had always been the one to hold Steve close after, to rock him gently and remind him that he wasn’t any of the things his father claimed, that he was loved and wanted. With his only two friends deployed to serve the kingdom, who would be there for Steve? “I’ll be fine.” He soothed, reaching out to clasp Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly. “We’re okay.”

“Right.” Bucky turned, sweeping Steve up into another embrace, and then nodded sharply as he pulled away once more. ‘You’re too stubborn; nothing’s going to hold you back.” He left without another word and Steve pretended not to see the wetness in his eyes.

The next day, Bucky greeted Steve while holding a strip of black cloth out to him. “Cover your eyes; Peggy and I have a surprise for you.” Steve hesitated but did so, tying the strip around his head and closing his eyes for good measure; he held one hand out for Bucky, trusting the man to lead him safely. A hand latched around his wrist to guide him forward, and Steve followed without complaint, each step careful and shuffling. They walked like that for a few minutes and the smell of manure told him that they were in the stables even if Dugan’s greeting whinny hadn’t. “There we go; you can take the blindfold off now.”

Steve removed the cloth, blinking a few times to adjust to light after the dimming effect of the cloth. Spread out on a scarlet cloth was a slightly mismatched set of trainee dress uniforms and the pair of boots Bucky had gifted to him on his birthday. Peggy slipped from the barn, leaving Steve to dress, and Bucky turned his back until he was needed. A few minutes later, Steve was wearing a pair of tight black leather trousers that he suspected had been Peggy’s, a white dress top that was obviously worn but likely bought second hand for the occasion, and the black and bronze gear all trainees wore: guards for his shoulders, hips, and thighs. With Bucky’s help, they worked the boots onto his legs.

“Wow.” Bucky gaped at his friend, eyes travelling over his form in shock before he shook his head.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Steve asked, mistaking the reaction. “I know I’ve gained muscle in the past few years but I’m still not cut out to be a trainee for the king’s services. I can’t pull it off.” He raised one hand to a shoulder guard, looking intent on ripping it off, and Bucky stepped forward to stop him as he called for Peggy to come see. When she entered, she gaped as well and the embarrassed flush on Steve’s cheeks only darkened. Peggy seemed to see it because she darted forward and pulled him into a tight hug. “So it’s passable?”

“If I weren’t with Bucky, I’d be honoured to have you on my arm at the ball.” She promised firmly. “You look great, really. And since you’re in trainee gear, no one would think you out of place if you spend the whole time with us.” And although he’d been hesitant at first, her beaming smile and the quiet pride in Bucky’s gaze had Steve nodding along in agreement.

The ball approached steadily and his friends’ departure along with it.

The night of the ball, Steve was pacing in his mother’s home - not his, not really, since it hadn’t felt like a home at all since he’d lost her- and waiting for his father to fall asleep so he could sneak out to go to the ball. While he hadn’t been explicitly forbidden to go, he knew his father wouldn’t allow him the pleasure in going, especially if he knew Bucky and Peggy were going to be there; the man had never warmed up to them and especially Peggy, whom he thought unnatural because she was a female member of the guard. 

Steve was wearing the dress shirt and leather pants and boots but had left the trainee gear off and stashed in Dugan’s stall since he knew his father would be less than pleased if he saw the items on Steve. He was debating going to get the guard pieces when the door to the entry hall slammed open and his father stumbled in, obviously drunk already. The man eyed him assessingly and then laughed coldly, striding forward until he was close enough to lean into Steve’s space, eyes narrowed and bloodshot. “You’re dressed up to go to the ball, aren’t you?” He asked, scoffing. “I don’t want to see your face there.”

“I-I didn’t know you planned to attend?” Steve asked, heart sinking.

The look his father gave him was mocking and Steve flinched back, swallowing hard. “There will be free drinks and food and better company than you. I will be going and you-” he shook his head, laughing, “-you will not. I don’t need my evening ruined by your presence. I’ll be taking the carriage and you will be staying here, wasting away in this house like your mother did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos/comments if you liked!


	4. Can't Order Me to Quit Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There isn’t any reason for Steve to stay at home except for the loss and self deprecation curling in his stomach. His father’s opinion has never meant much to him and the lack of carriage doesn’t mean much when he has Dugan, who he’d planned to ride anyways. It didn’t matter that his father couldn’t ride the animal and has thus forgotten him Steve was more than capable of doing so and would not. Still, he stayed in the home; after some time, he fell to his knees, curling up around himself and letting out needy little whimpers as tears slipped down his cheeks. His mother should never have been used as a weapon to cut him down; she had never been so in life and his father’s cruel words stung more than any simple refusal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to connect the two halves of the story; might have to extend the story by a few chapters to get everything I want out of it.

There isn’t any reason for Steve to stay at home except for the loss and self deprecation curling in his stomach. His father’s opinion has never meant much to him and the lack of carriage doesn’t mean much when he has Dugan, who he’d planned to ride anyways. It didn’t matter that his father couldn’t ride the animal and has thus forgotten him Steve was more than capable of doing so and would not. Still, he stayed in the home; after some time, he fell to his knees, curling up around himself and letting out needy little whimpers as tears slipped down his cheeks. His mother should never have been used as a weapon to cut him down; she had never been so in life and his father’s cruel words stung more than any simple refusal.

A few hours passed like that before Bucky and Peggy arrived on their own steeds, white stallions with matching black saddles decorated with delicate, intricate gearwork in silver and bronze. Bucky was the first to enter, fixing the tie around his throat and calling Steve’s name. He froze moments later, halfway through the door with eyes wide with confusion and fear. Steve’s lungs had always been poor; watching the man gasping for breath through his tears was enough to send pure terror through the guard, panic earned from too many times when Steve’s life had been in danger, especially with Steve’s refusal to use Stark Tech. “Stevie?”

Steve raised his head slowly, eyes puffy and cheeks flushed. It took him a moment for bloodshot eyes to focus on his friend’s face and then he let his head fall again, pose screaming dejection even if the tear tracked cheeks hadn’t given his sorrow away. “Buck, I’m s-sorry.”

Bucky moved forward at once, falling to his knees before his friend despite Steve’s protests that he might dirty his dress uniform. Bucky opened his arms for him and Steve leaned slowly into his embrace, shifting closer and still sniffling softly. “You don’t have a damned thing to be sorry about, Rogers.” Bucky replied, shaking his head, “What happened?”

The blond wavered, burying his nose against Bucky’s neck even as Peggy entered and hurried over to the two males, settling herself on the other side of Steve so she could sandwich him between them in a warm embrace. “He said I couldn’t go.” Steve whispered, voice cracking slightly. “He’s going; he’d see if I was. He said… he said I would die here like my mother.”

Bucky cursed softly but Peggy was the one who clutched at him, holding him closer as Bucky pulled away. He would have thrown something but he knew that Steve loved the cottage too much to allow any destruction in it; instead, he paced in much the same way as Steve had earlier. “He can’t do that; Prince Tony specifically specified that all were welcome at the ball and your father will probably be too drunk to notice anyways, even if he knew to look amongst the guards for you.”

“Even your father wouldn’t dare start anything at a royal ball.” Peggy added, ableit a bit hesitantly. “And after you get home, there’s nothing he can do to take the night away from you.”

And it was true, Steve thought, but he still shied away from the potential threats, the cursing and sharp blows that would rain down on him if he earned his father’s wrath. It wasn’t anything new, really, but he had no wish to repeat it. HIs father would hurt him, as he always hurt him, but Steve was almost resigned to the fact. He wanted to spend the day with his friends, after all, since they would be leaving him so soon; his father’s wrath was hardly more important than missing one of the last days he had with them for the time being.

Steve nodded despite his hesitance and the pair dried his cheeks and murmured gentle reassurances; not long later, he was being eased into the guards he’d hidden in Dugan’s stall. Once he was seated on the temperamental stallion, the three of them began the journey towards the castle, a place of work for the guards to be and of fantasy for the man only wearing their uniform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed!


	5. the Glass Slipper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony finally meet, Steve runs away, and Tony owes an unnamed blond two debts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that two men harass a woman and Steve in a slightly sexual manner.

There was too much commotion for one slightly out of place trainee to be noticed, and Steve slipped in easily with his friends with only a couple of odd looks from other trainees. The regular attendees of the ball, those not in uniform, wore elaborate outfits crusted with jewels, either glass or real depending on the status of the person wearing them. Steve had expected the gem laden gowns that dragged behind the feet of high heeled women, but the suits heavy with the same accents had been a surprise. Those of the highest classes had gearwork embroidered on the glossy fabrics of their intricate finery; some even had working gears ticking away from their boots and vests. Steve felt out of place, but at least he had Peggy and Bucky at his side to ground him.

They were called away at one point to discuss their upcoming assignment with an instructor, and Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair fondly as he peeled away. Once alone, Steve focused on imitating the pompous walks Peggy had mocked during her story retellings, wanting to fit in despite how lost he felt without his friends with him; he knew that if he stood out, he was more likely to be discovered by his father, and he wouldn’t be safe from his wrath, not even at a royal event. 

That said, the blond couldn’t help but look up sharply when he heard a scared ‘leave me alone’. He was moving before he could even remind himself that he was trying to blend in and that there were other guards who were more qualified to break up the fight. 

None of that mattered. A young girl with bronze hair was being pinned between the bodies of two men; they were both much larger than her and wearing far more jewels on their rings alone than she could afford to wear with her whole ensemble. A few strides crossed the distance between Steve and the trio and he threw the two males aside without hesitation, fury and the element of surprise lending him strength.

“How dare you lay your hands on a woman who had refused your advances?” He snarled, staring up at the larger of the two men; his hands were balled at his sides, and he trembled with rage. “This is a ball; people are supposed to be having fun.”

“I was having fun.” The man sneered, looking between Steve and the girl he’d been harassing. “And you ruined it. Unless you’re volunteering to take her place?”

Steve swung a punch, fist connecting with the other’s jaw, and knocked the stranger back. Before the bejeweled man could return the blow, a whistle cut through the air and the crowds around them parted. Steve didn’t even look to see why; he refused to stand down when he was the only one standing between the girl and those who would cause her harm. Fuming and focused, Steve jolted when a gloved hand settled on his shoulder. He turned, expecting another opponent, and then parted his lips in an ‘o’ of surprise.

The prince stood before him, one eyebrow raised curiously. His dark hair was swept back from his face and pinned in place by silver gears that were both more subtle and more fitting than a crown or circlet would have been on the prince who supposedly spent most of his free time in his well stocked lab. “What seems to be the problem here?” Prince Tony asked in a careful drawl, narrowing his eyes at the group of them.

“It seems your guards were unable to keep this maiden safe from the unwanted advances of your guests.” Steve replied without hesitation, turning to face the prince despite the startled gasps of those around him. Thankfully, the king seemed to be occupied elsewhere. “I was assisting them.”

A few flicks of the prince’s wrists had the two men escorted out and the woman apologized to profusely by a guard who offered to escort her to a table to sit. Once the situation was handled, Steve turned away from the prince to slip from the room before more attention was drawn to him. Unfortunately, the man was not willing to let him do so. “I’m sure the lovely lady would like to know the name of the man who stepped in to protect her virtue.”

 

“Really, offering aid is its own reward.” Steve protested as he took a step away, looking around for either Bucky or Peggy to swoop in and save him.

“A good policy for a guard to take.” Tony agreed easily, one eyebrow raised. “That said, I don’t recall your face and I oversee the training of those in your gear, and I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m not from your standard guard.” Taking a step back and looking for an escape, Steve gave the prince a grin that appeared cocky but was mostly a bluff to hide his fear of being discovered by his father. “I’m from the ‘rescuing damsels in distress division’. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“If you won’t accept my gratitude, surely your head of house will.” The prince interrupted, looking around as well as if someone would be rushing forward to accept the thanks on Steve’s behalf. When he looked back at the blond, he was running towards the exit; the mention of his father had fleeing.

The crowd parted easily for the running guard, perhaps thinking he was rushing about to fulfill his appointed duties; people lingered around the prince, however, and slowed him down. By the time he’d caught up to the unnamed trainee, he was astride a ginger stallion and looked ready to dash off into the night. “Stop!” The prince called just as the horse took a leap forward; guards hurried to grab at the animal, wanting to stay the man atop it if that’s what their prince required, and Steve was flung from his mount when it was yanked back. Running with a noticeable limp, Steve left his horse behind and dove for cover in the woods, which were so thick that not even Dugan’s sure hooves could have carried him through it.

And the prince was left with a horse that brayed furiously whenever he neared it and a panic he couldn’t describe at the thought of the nameless guard injured and alone. “Find him.” He ordered, surprised to find his cheeks wet. “I owe him two debts now, it seems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked, please leave kudos and/or reviews!


	6. Have Courage and Be Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should be easy to figure out which guard Tony saw at his ball that night. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahh I'm enjoying this too much; I may need to add a few chapters.

It’s not like the prince can just leave the rearing stallion in the middle of his courtyard, not when people would have to walk past it. What if a noble lady was struck by a flailing hoof as she was escorted by? Despite his desperate want to pretend otherwise, he knew the safety of his guests was only part of the reason why he called for stable hands; a much larger part of him was merely reluctant to give up the only tie to his unknown companion. The blond had been brave, as much for leaving the prince without permission as for jumping forward to aid the woman his own men had not seen to help. 

When the stable hands arrived, though, the horse began to act even more violent and thrashed about furiously, yanking at the reins hanging loose from the proud column of its throat; unlike the standard guard’s horse, this one wore no bit and didn’t seem cowed at the site of men in military uniforms. “A guard would miss his horse and come back for it.” One of the stable hands mused, eyeing the creature curiously to see if it would be possible to sneak closer to it.

“The prince must have scared him something awful for him to leave his beast behind.” The other agreed, reaching out to steady another horse that had become upset by the commotion.

“That is enough.” Tony snapped, turning back to the pair. “But you raise an excellent point. A guard cannot be without a stead. We will call the recruits to bring their mounts to the back fields tomorrow morning and we will see who is either absent or missing a stallion.”

“But how do we keep this creature tame until then?” The second stable hand asked in a worried whisper, only to be hushed by his companion. It took much bribery with offers of apples and salt licks before the stallion would enter a stable. It brayed furiously if another stood with him or attempted to touch him ; it even knocked down the door they attempted to pinion it with. Still, it settled down in the safety and warmth of the barn and didn’t disturb the other horses. When the next morning was heralded by a rising sun, all they had to do was open the barn door for the horse to come charging out, head whipping around as it looked for his master.

Unluckily for the horse - and Tony - the man wasn’t found amongst the crowd of guards; neither a recruit or man was missing and Tony wandered down their ranks just to check for the face that seemed too familiar for just one encounter. Although the almost feral horse did stop to snuffle gently at two different guards, neither professed to knowing the man Tony sought and he had no further reason to hold them. The horse kicked over bales of hale that evening, snapping at the men who came to feed him, and Tony didn’t feel much calmer. The man could refuse his advances if he wished and the prince would leave him be; that said, he wished to make his intentions clear so that they could be rejected or accepted. Needing a few more days to find the mysterious man, Tony postponed the guard’s latest deployment.

That night, Peggy and Bucky met Steve in his barn; Peggy looked somber, but her boyfriend laughed jovially at the thought of Prince Stark so hung up on their own Stevie. “He let Dugan sniff around as we did our formations to see if anyone tried to claim him or if Dugan got excited to see someone; we had to lie and say we’d had hot buns at the market before we came to the meeting and had honey on our hands, which was why Dugan was drawn to us when he was making a fuss with nearly anyone else.”

“And Dugan?” Steve pressed, “He’s being treated well?” The horse was too free spirited to follow orders and that tended to make heavy handed riders like his father try to break the stallion; no one yet had tamed him and Steve hoped that none at the castle would be capable of doing so either.

“Dugan’s got Prince Stark wrapped around one horseshoe.” Bucky replied dismissively. “They know there’s no good way to contain him if he doesn’t wish to be and the prince seems to think he’s the key to finding you. When he announced that he was looking for his husband to be and that he would be able to ride Dugan, a few knights offered to try. One was flung into a pile of Dugan’s own dung.”

“How presumptuous.” Steve murmured softly as he turned away, vaguely sympathetic to the man who had also flown from Dugan’s saddle; his stallion was as tall and muscled as any war horse and being thrown from his height was not an experience that Steve would like to repeat.

The hunt stretched on; days of searching stretched onto a week and then too. Prince Stark began to lead Dugan through nearby towns and hamlets in hopes of finding the man who’d caught his attention - and admittedly rid him of the infernal beast he’d left behind. Dugan would tug him around by a mouthful of fine, embroidered tunic whenever he caught a scent that reminded him of Steve - or food - and the royal seamstress was begging him to simply turn the horse out. After nearly a fortnight of being bullied by the great stallion, the prince stumbled upon the woman who Steve had intervened on the behalf of so many nights ago.

“I hear you’re looking for the man who helped me.” She murmured, drawing his attention even as Dugan nudged at the small of his back with the side of one equine head. “I may have found him.”

“And why would a village maiden have found a prize the prince of the land could not?” A guard - not one of Tony’s favorites - asked coldly. “Do you want coin? Praise? To tumble someone of high enough class to take you from this hovel?”

“Because I wished to thank him.” She replied serenely as Tony shoved the guard back. “And you wished to intimidate him into marriage. That’s what us ‘village maidens’ thought, anyways, before you spent so much time looking for him, even in places like this. Places that would mean he was _common_. Would you really marry a commoner, Prince Stark?”

“I’ve already fallen for one, I fear.” Tony replied gently and she nodded, looking pleased.

And that was how the prince found himself in the doorway of Steve’s cottage, being bellowed out by a drunken man who swore he’d never seen Dugan in his life even as the horse tried to push past them both and into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudo and/or leave comments if you liked this chapter!


	7. So This is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happily Ever After can take a long time to achieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of the main story but there may be either a sequel or one shots later.

Tony hears soft sobbing from inside and to be honest, he doesn’t much care at the moment if his mystery man is inside or not. The voice letting out the broken sounds was too old for it for the prince to ignore it; it was no babe or startled child, but a young man reduced to tears. He shouldered past the man who continued to yell at him, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath, and chuckled softly when Dugan padded in eagerly after him. That, he hoped, was a good sign that he’d found his man.

Dugan found Steve first, darting forward to nuzzle at the blond’s cheek and let out a shrill, frightened whinny as he nudged his shoulder. His other cheek, which the horse sniffed at worriedly as he pawed furiously at the wooden floors of the cottage, was marred by a stinging red mark; the sobbing man was clutching at his chest and letting out the tight, wheezing sobs that Tony knew could merely be from panic or something much worse.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He soothed gently, easing the other to his feet as his men stopped the blond’s father from entering. “It was you, wasn’t it, that I met at the ball? You may have tried to hide your face, but your eyes are rather distinctive. Perfect twin sapphires.”

“I didn’t want my father to know I’d gone.” Steve admitted softly, darting his eyes over to the man in question. “And I don’t know why you worked so hard to find me. I’m not suited for your life, not to the wealth or the machines. I don’t… I don’t like machines.”

“And I don’t like grown men who hit their children.” Tony’s reply was as cold and sharp as ice, and Steve’s father paled at the tone. “If I were to clear a room for you and removed the machines, would you spend some time there? To get away from this place, at the very least.”

“This has always been my home. I… this was my mother’s home.” The shallow breathing was returning, and Tony cursed himself for pushing the man. “I told her I would care for her home!”

“She would want you to be safe.” Tony countered firmly, removing his jacket so he could wrap it around the blond’s trembling shoulders. “You could keep this home, return to it whenever you like. Once your father is handled - and he will be handled, I assure you, to the full extent of the law - you could even resume living here, although I would like to see you around the castle.”

In the end, Steve had been too exhausted to handle the choice that night; his father was hauled off to the local gaol and Bucky and Peggy were given leave to stay with Steve for a fortnight or two. For the first week. Steve wandered around the castle like a ghost, silent and without touching anything. He flinched away from the chimes and ticks of machinery, lips curling in distaste, and often retreated to his room to curl up on his couch or bed with Bucky and Peggy.

Tony told himself that he wasn’t jealous. Even he knew he was lying.

Despite that, Steve never once made any mention of leaving. As time passed, he began to take meals beside the large gold and chrome clock that marked the stars’ positions as well as the date and time; he would watch the many hands spin lazily as he ate absently. Sometimes, he even found himself doodling gears and circuits. Another few days passed and he began to ride Dugan for an hour each morning when he first woke. Around that time, Bucky and Peggy finally joined their company on their deployment, pressing kisses to Steve’s brow as they swung themselves onto their mounts.

The morning after they left, the prince was woken by knocking at his door. He opened it, still in rumbled bedclothes as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, to the many apologizes of his manservant. “I know your majesty is not to be awoken so early except in the case of an emergency but you wished to be fetched at once if your esteemed guest ever needed you.”

“What happened to him, Jarvis?” Tony asked, running back into his room to yank on proper pants and gather a sword, which he attached to his waist. “Has Steve been hurt? Did he get thrown from Dugan again?” He felt a pang of guilt at that, remembering how Steve had been thrown the first time.

“He wishes for you to ride with him.” Jarvis replied, flustered but no longer panicked. “I’ve already passed on instructions for a stallion to be saddled for you, should you accept.”

“Of course I do.” Tony replied, tone almost dismissive. “I just need to change into riding clothes.”

 

“And perhaps leave the sword.” His manservant added gently, eyes twinkling with merriment he knew better than to voice.

Tony joined Steve in his morning ride and it was the first of many they spent together, sharing stories from their childhood in soft whispers. tone hushed even when they sprinted down the green because it made them stay close together. After a few weeks of it. Steve motioned Tony close and pressed a kiss to his wind chapped lips.

“Is that a yes, then?”

“Finally.” Steve agreed softly. “It’s a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please like/leave kudos if you liked!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos/comments if you liked!


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